


Qualms in the Night

by AmiMendal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Insomnia, Mild Language, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 16:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20696621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmiMendal/pseuds/AmiMendal
Summary: In the aftermath of the Chamber, Ginny Weasley does not sleep. She cannot sleep. She refuses to. (Drama/Angst) (PTSD) One-shot. Very minor language.





	Qualms in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Phobia challenge in the HPFC forum on FFN; I chose Ginny Weasley ~ Hypnophobia (The Fear of Sleeping). The original publish date of this fic is February 4th, 2015. It has been edited for grammatical errors.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own a lot of mismatched socks, but I do not own the HP universe. Don't sue.

**It's been one week, six days, fourteen hours and fifty-two minutes since I slept.**

I went to the Hospital Wing after meeting my parents in Dumbledore's office. Madam Pomphrey checked my vitals, gave a full physical examination, and found nothing wrong with me. Somehow, I still received three potions to take every day for the next six forevers. I've been excused from final examinations of the year.

My very first year at Hogwarts was a complete disaster. I don't think I have memories for half of it. I made zero friends. I made zero impact. It was the complete opposite of how I'd envisioned my first year going.

I was supposed to be pretty and popular, witty but brilliant at Charms and Potions. I was so ready for it. I was so excited. I'd watched six older brothers get on and off of that scarlet train, but I'm going home via Floo.

We Flooed to the Burrow from the infirmary and Mum fussed over me with food. She cooked everything in the kitchen, even burned the banana bread. She never does that, never. But we don't talk about the Chamber. We don't about _what happened_. And that's what they call it. They call it _what happened_.

"No, we haven't spoken to Dumbledore since... _what happened_."

"I thought about making some tomato soup but I haven't made that since..._what happened_. It just looks too much like-"

Excuse the hell out of me, but I want tomato soup. And I want to talk about _what happened_! Maybe then I could sleep.

**-.-.-**

**It's been five weeks, two days, eight hours, and eighteen minutes.**

I refuse to be in the dark. There's always a candle lit, or a lantern, or a wand. If there isn't a light source near me, I'm screaming. We still don't speak of _what happened_ but we do eat normal meals again.

My brothers take turns sleeping in my room. Sometimes it helps, but sometimes it makes it worse. Just a few days ago, I was glancing around my all-too-familiar bedroom when my eyes played tricks on me. The silhouette of Percy on the floor of my bed sent me into hysterics. It could have been the wave in his hair, or his height, maybe the stiffness in his shoulders...but something in my brain made a connection and I was standing on my window sill, screaming at him.

Percy doesn't sleep in my room anymore.

Then again, neither do I.

**-.-.-**

**It's been nine weeks, five days, thirteen hours, and forty-four minutes.**

I'm scared to even blink now. Even a millisecond of darkness is too long, no matter that it's too fast for my brain to register. I'm really going mad now, and I can prove it.

Instead of sleeping, I count the ticks of the clock. There's just the slightest delay between the thirty-third and thirty-fourth second on my clock. I tried to do the math on how much that equals in a day, a year, a lifetime. How much time does this clock lose?

Then I wondered how much time _I've_ lost. Where was I the day of the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff match? What was I doing the night Harry got detention? Did I go to Herbology on March twentieth, or was I killing chickens?

These thoughts keep me awake, and that helps, because I can't bear to sleep. I'm terrified of what I might see. Everything turns into him. I don't know how to defeat these qualms of the night.

I vow to never sleep again.


End file.
